


Say That You Love Me!

by Loser_Love



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Universe - It, By that I mean BOOK Canon typical violence with movie characters, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Fanon designs of Mike and Ben's Neibolt forms, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Pennywise brings the neibolt kids to life and can possess them through a gaping hole in their chest, Sentient Neibolt AU, Trauma, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loser_Love/pseuds/Loser_Love
Summary: Pennywise has given his lovely, morbid recreations of the Losers Club life. He can focus on eating while they work up his next meal, it should be that easy, at least. His little goo-boy Eddie, however, seems too enamored with the Trashmouthed kid. Maybe he would get over it after a couple of days of work, maybe not. Time would tell.Neibolt Eddie finds his calling immediately after gaining sentience, and that's to make Richie his. Not the Richie he lived with, with the wooden flesh and maggot-infested face, no. He wanted the real deal. Unfortunately for him, so did Eddie Kaspbrak.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Neibolt Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	1. Practice Makes Perfect (P.O.V. Neibolt Eddie)

**Author's Note:**

> Anything bolded when Neibolt!Rich is around is what he is signing in ASL.
> 
> Current P.O.V.: Neibolt Eddie

**Epilogue**

_It was nearing the winter solstice in Derry, Maine. The year was 1987. The legendary 27-year curse had begun wreaking havoc over the small town with an entrance like no other. Any entire first-grade class from the neighboring town, which shares the same school district, gone. They had gone on a field trip to the local nature reserve, to learn about local flora and fauna. Maybe it saved them the boredom. The tour guide and teacher were found unconscious in a roadside ditch and woke up understandably confused and equally mortified._

_Though It, or Pennywise as it was often known, starved for all fearful children, including the ones it had captured, it had set its eyes on some, particularly delectable looking targets for the summer. Pennywise was always watching them, ever since it had woke up._

_The day Pennywise woke, he surveyed his local area, there were always easy targets there. New couples bearing new children, fresh for grabs every year. He was unimaginably delighted to catch sight of a small, semi-flamboyant boy who smelled strongly of fear before he was ever interacted with. It watched as the small boy scampered along the edge of his lawn, pausing mid jog when his little digital watch went off. He fumbled into his fanny pack, fishing out some prescriptions and taking them accordingly. He zipped them away and took and prancing step forward before stepping directly into a puddle of mud, effectively splashing himself with dirty water and clumps of dirt. Much to Its delight he began to shake and gag, tearing up even. **Scared of germs, are we, little one?** This summer was going to be an absolute delight. As the of his wake first week continued, while feasting on his new victims Pennywise enjoyed his constant surveillance of the boy. His small group of friends all presented to be fine specimens of his hunt, except for one. Bill, as it turned out, had a fairly normal life, with little to fear. That just wouldn’t do. Pennywise would have to change that, otherwise, Bill would interfere with how he wanted this game to be played. And so, that problem was fixed._

_Now, most people prepare their meals, perfect them, even. Pennywise did the same with his favorite of targets each year. As their encounters grew, the group banded closer together, even gaining a few members along the way. Some were harder than others to read, unlike the original group, Eddie, Richie, Stanley, and now, Bill. It took research and much effort on the hungry beast’s part, but he didn’t mind. It was just the beginning stages of his plan, and with each day he craved them further. Now that the group seemed to be at its capacity of 7, he would begin his work. He would create something, or rather, some things, new, sentient. Brillant._

___________________________________________________________________________

The brunette smiled warmly as his creator helped him into a polo, it was salmon pink. He liked it very much. “Mr. Pennywise?” He asked, looking down at his new shirt, “Yes Eddie?” “This is already dirty.” The clown nodded, a jingle coming from somewhere on his person, “Yes I know, Eds. See, that boy with your name, the one you look like, he doesn’t like dirt and germs. So this is very scary to him.” Eddie blinked and chuckled, running his fingers through his hair, “That’s pretty dumb, it’s just dirt!” “Isn’t it?” The clown laughed softly, patting the boy’s shoulder. Eddie was more than thrilled to begin his work, he shoved his hands into his new shorts with a grin. “Thank you for the new clothes, sir,” “Of course, Eddie, now go practice.” 

He hopped along to what was decidedly his room, looking at the half shattered mirror propped up in the corner, partly holding up peeling wallpaper. The brunette ruffled his own hair and fidgeted with his polo collar, buttoning both buttons rather than just the bottom one, sludge pooling at the edge of his collar. He wiped his mouth to stop the black drool from dripping from a moment, smearing it across his cheek. _Okay Eddie, it was time to be scary. Really scary._ He faced his back to the mirror and then spun around, baring his dark slobber-covered teeth and giving a convincing cackle. He heard his door creak slightly, a firm set of claps following. Eddie jumped, his head shooting up to see his friend, Richie standing in the doorway. The puppet-like boy gave a restrained smile, then motioning to his hand which was giving a thumbs up. “Thank you Rich!” the shorter chimed, walking over to the doorframe. **That was good. Your new clothes look cool.** the boy signed, his white, pupil-less eyes seeming to bore into Eddie. “Thank you, Richie, your clothes are--” He took in the sight, a plain white shirt with a multicolor, (rather obnoxious in Eddie’s opinion) patterned short-sleeve button-down over it, with knee-length jean shorts. “It’s sure something, Rich.” The boy struggled to emote, but Eddie could read his embarrassment from the slight change in hue to his very pale complexion. “It suits you, Rich. Relax.” **I don’t like them much, I wish we could pick our own clothes.** Eddie patted his wrist gently, smiling, “I’m sure one day Mr. Pennywise will let us.” The blank-faced boy remained unconvinced, itching at the little holes burrowed in his wooden jaw. The worms and maggots that often squirmed out of these holes must be asleep, it was very cold down in this area of the house. Eddie simply laughed at the other, turning to the inside of his room, “Well Richie, shoo, I need to practice, I have to go out and do some work soon, for Mr. P.” And with that, he heard the clicking joints of the taller boy walk away, his door staying cracked open. The brunette stormed over and shut it gently, he hated when his door was open without any reason, it always invited trouble or unwelcome visitors. 

Though he had told Richie that he was going to practice, he decided not to, laying down on his mattress. He couldn’t wait for this assignment, he would get to see the ‘real’ Richie. He adored that boy, perhaps even too much. Eddie had wanted badly to be closer to him, to touch him, to see him closer than from a stalking distance. Tomorrow would be their closest encounter, and he was thrilled to be face-to-face with his darling, darling Richie. The plan was simple but equally exciting. He would trick the Tozier boy into thinking he was the ‘real’ Eddie, and invite him out to the arcade for a game of Streetfighter. If all else failed, he would simply find a way to scare him, there were no targets off the table, according to Boss. Eddie certainly had no reservations or boundaries either. Even if Richie couldn’t accept his sexuality, Eddie was far past the point of embracing his own. This new found free-will, even if it wasn’t completely free, was one that he wished not to restrain.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t follow the plan exactly. In fact, he never planned to, but Mr. Pennywise didn’t need to know that. The results would likely be just as satisfactory. No, Eddie didn’t want to just ask the boy to the arcade, that was far, far too simple. Additionally, the arcade was too public. This would be a private affair, with undertones that would hopefully both please and properly terrify the lanky jokester. 

Anyhow, It was late, and the faster the day arrived the happier Eddie would be, so he quickly put himself to bed.


	2. A Surprise Visitor (P.O.V. Eddie K)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V. Eddie Kaspbrak (Non-Neibolt)

The brunette crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently in his room, facing his window. _Richie said he would be here by now_ , it was 11:45 PM, Richie was going to sneak him out at 11:30, as per the original plan at least. Eddie hoped that his mother wouldn’t wake up when the trashmouth opened the window. On second thought, Eddie would open it now, so that he could be extra careful. A gust of wind filled his room, upheaving a stack of papers that he had neatly set atop his binder. “Shit,” he whispered to himself as they began to swirl the room, he didn’t know it was supposed to be so windy tonight. He began to snatch at the papers, managing to grab a few, flinching with every crumple it made. He heard footsteps tread onto his lawn and perked up. The wind died down abruptly, and so he collected his papers, returning them to a stack. He then hung his midsection out of the window, “Hey asshole!” he scream-whispered into the night, the streetlight barely illuminating the street, it hardly reached his yard, “You’re fucking late.” No response. 

Eddie grew worried immediately and combed through his wavy, brunette locks anxiously. “Richie?” he inquired in a low voice, “Rich, are you ‘kay?” Silence again, but the steps only veered closer. “Ric--” A wooden creak cut him short, as something collapsed onto his lawn. Unable to process the noise through his rushing mind and pounding heart he flung himself through the window. “Richie!? Rich, dude, what the fuck happened, are you okay?” He saw only a silhouette, face down on the grass in the now flickering light. “Richie-” he was cut off by the figure reaching out and clenching tightly onto his ankle, he yelped. “This isn’t fun-” he paused, taking in the feeling on his ankle, it definitely wasn’t flesh. “What the fuck?” he whispered hoarsely, raising his leg in an attempt to pull it from the increasingly uncomfortable grasp. The splintery fist only tightened around him, he yanked his leg away roughly, and with a **pop** off came the arm. 

This elicited a shriek louder than any other from the brunette. Right as he composed himself enough to clap his hands over his mouth. Richie sprinted onto the scene, wide-eyed and pushing his glasses back onto his nose, presumably having fallen during his run. “Eddie!? Eddie are you okay? What’s wrong ? Hey- Hey quiet down, what’s-” He looked down at Eddie’s leg, seeing the figure just as it slid beneath the front porch. “What the fuck,” the boy with glasses whispered. The germaphobe simply scrambled over to his friend, hand still over his mouth as he choked out quiet sobs of terror. Richie wrapped his arms around him protectively, patting his back. “What was that?” he mumbled against Eddie’s ear. Eddie could only shake his head, his entire body trembling against Richie’s chest. “I don’t-- I-i-I don’t…” Eddie could only follow this by a whimper, tears now wetting Richie’s undershirt as they soaked through his Hawaiian sleeve already. Then they heard the most dreaded of sounds, Sonia Kaspbrak, from within the house. A faint shriek came from her bedroom, “EDDIE!? EDDIE ARE YOU OKAY?” Eddie looked up at Richie, who released him with a disappointed sigh. He knew they would have to move their plans to another night, no time for goodbyes, no time for anything. 

The brunette had already sprinted wordlessly to his window, climbing in and clamoring it shut, leaving his friend to his walk back home. He threw himself gracelessly into his bed, chest heaving, disheveled as his mom threw open the door. “Eddiebear are you okay!?” his mother near shouted, making him flinch hard enough to prompt more tears to drip down from his eyes. “I-i- just had a nightmare, Mommy… I’m sorry,” he muttered hoarsely. Eddie was all too used to lying. Bad parents made excellent liars, as he was told, but he didn’t think his mom was all that bad. Perhaps a little too concerned, perhaps too attached, but certainly not a _bad_ mom. His friends tended to disagree. Sonia scrambled to the boy’s bedside, trapping him in an uncomfortable embrace, which he accepted nonetheless. He needed to be held right now, even if she wasn’t all that good at it. The boy couldn’t help but begin to sob again, soaking the sleeve of his mother’s nightgown immediately as he let himself collapse into sniffles and whimpers. She rubbed his back all the while, whispering not-so comforting things to Eddie. She had a bad habit of this. “This is why you need mommy,” and “Mommy can always protect you,” weren’t necessarily phrases he liked, but at this moment, he decided to block her out and take what he could get. 

Eventually, his mother went back to bed, after insisting he now stayed home from school, in order to sleep a full 8 hours. Normally, Eddie wouldn’t mind skipping school for such a stupid reason, but he was itching to re-plan his night with Richie. Richie had just bought Super Mario Bros 2 for his NES with allowance money, and he was waiting to start the game until Eddie came over. Eddie was the best P2 out of the friend group, according to Richie. He hoped Richie would still wait for him, as selfish as that may sound.

He laid awake until the early hours of the morning, afraid of the beast beneath his porch. Getting up thrice to assure his window was locked and the blinds were drawn closed. He prayed it was only a dream or even a hallucination. It was unlike Eds to pray for himself to be unwell, but God did he not want that _thing_ to be real.


	3. First Impressions (P.O.V. Neibolt Eddie)

Eddie looked at himself in the reflection of Richie’s window, the curtains were closed, so Richie didn’t know he was there yet, hopefully. He took a sharp breath in and grinned excitedly, tapping on the glass in a specific pattern he had observed the real Eddie do a couple of nights before. He heard the groan of bedsprings as Richie slugged himself off his bed and parted the curtains, grinning upon seeing his face. Eddie had gotten special clothes for today, ones that were clean, and comfortable; an Airwolf shirt and some jeans, which he had rolled up in a small cuff above his ankle like the real Eddie often did. 

“Eddie! Hey! What’re you doing there? I thought you had church?” “I convinced my mom that I was sick so I didn’t have to go…” He gave a convincing, prideful smirk. “Haha, good job,” Richie mumbled, opening his window further so that the brunette could climb in. And so, Eddie climbed in, this was going to be a piece of cake. He sat on the edge of Richie’s bed, this is where his improv skills would have to come into play. He had only caught glimpses of how Richie and Eddie interacted in private. “How are you feeling?” Richie asked, a tinge of concern evident in his voice, Eddie hadn’t got a clue what he was talking about. “Uh- Okay, I guess…” Richie nodded slowly, sitting beside him, so close that Eddie’s face burned, he smelled good, so good. “That was really scary, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to help you,” Richie mumbled, staring at the carpet. The Neibolt child grinned, shoving him gently, “Relaaax, I’m fine, Chee!” Richie sighed but didn’t address it further, Eddie wracked his brain for what could have scared Eddie last night. Then he remembered it -- Richie, his Richie, had mentioned an assignment of sorts that morning. That was probably it. Eddie leaned against the boy in glasses, blushing furiously. He wished they could stay this way, touching. He didn’t understand why his face was so warm, his ears too, but he didn’t mind it one bit. 

“Did you wanna start that game?” Richie perked up, _Game?? Fuck why was this so hard_ Eddie’s brows furrowed before mumbling, “I’m still a little shaken up, I wanna be in a good mood when we start it, you know?” Richie accepted this answer with a nod, “Well, what do you want to do, Eds?” Eddie gave a flustered grumble, trying to figure out what to say next, he rubbed his arms as if he were cold and sat up. “Can I borrow a jacket? Your house is fucking freezing and--” he paused, letting Richie blurt out a “Sure!” before continuing “Can we just chill out for a little?” Richie nodded, handing him a jacket. Eddie pulled it on and breathed in the scent, much to his disappointment it was freshly washed, it smelled only of detergent. Silence fell over the two boys and Eddie was now left with his plan. Now was the time for action, he supposed. He hoped it would go the way he preferred, the way he wished it would, but the chances were slim. Mr. P likely demanded this already knowing what the outcome would be.

He looked to Richie with big doe-like eyes, gnawing at his lip as he worked up the nerve to ruin his first moments alone with the trashmouth, “Richie?” Richie perked back up, looking over to the anxious brunette, sitting back down beside him, “Yeah, What’s up?” Eddie placed his hand on the other side of Richie, turning to place himself on Richie’s lap, facing him. He smiled a wide grin, his excitement only growing, his throat burned as the bile goo bubbled into his mouth. He forced himself to swallow it back down. “You look nice today, Richie, my love,” Eddie murmured, a hand placed now on Richie’s jaw as the boy stared back, wide-eyed. He had heard the boys call each other flirtatious phrases before, like “my love,” “babe,” and the like as a joke. Contrary to real Eddie the neibolt boy was entirely serious, and the affection oozed off his words like the sweetest honey. The boy in glasses could only gape at the other before pulling his lips into a tight line and pushing Eddie’s chest not so gently with a bright blush on his face. He forced a laugh, “Shut the fuck uppp, get off me dumbass.” 

Eddie stood strong, his knees on either side of Richie’s lap as he crouched on top of him. “But you do!” he insisted, grabbing the boy’s chin with a firm grasp, pulling him so that their lips were merely an inch apart, “You look _so_ good, babe.” Richie froze, his shaky hand placed still against Eddie’s chest, his heart was pounding so hard that Eddie could feel it through his palm. Suddenly, Richie stood up, rigid, Eddie crumbled to the ground. “Eddie I said shut up, stop being weird, dude,” he snapped with a crackly growl to his voice. Eddie pushed himself to his feet and crossed his arms, “Fine, be that way asshole, I was just fucking play with you, fucking unclench for once.” He snapped in a convincingly upset manner, opening the window back up loudly and stepping one leg out. “Eds! Wait- no I didn’t mean- You just-” But Eddie slid out, keeping the jacket on him. He kept himself facing away from Richie so he wouldn’t see the grin on his face. Richie wanted him, he knew he did.


	4. Bill Doesn't Know A Thing About Romance (P.O.V. Eddie K)

_**1.5 months later** _

_  
_  
Eddie smiled at himself, his lips crooked, twitching; he was nervous. February 14, the most dreaded of days. He often was picked up by his aunt, because his mother was too drunk off of self-loathing and cheap wine to get him when school was out. He’d be dropped off and expected to hear her ramble on and on about very much she missed the man Eddie hardly remembered, Frank Kaspbrak. He’d be reminded every hour or so how he must always stay with her, and never leave, in illness or health. He felt bad for her, she was an incredibly sad person, and he loved her dearly. Contrary to her belief though, he didn’t plan to stay home all of his life, and hours worth of drunken rambling and mild degradation was certainly not going to convince him otherwise.

Lucky for Eddie, this Valentine’s Day would be different. He had been invited out with Bill and Richie. Specifically, Richie had decided to give them both a chance of escaping their homes. All holidays had been dreadful at the Denborough house since Georgie’s disappearance. 

Bill came out of the door, a sheepish grin plastered on his features and his face flushed a definitive red. He looked around before meeting his gaze with Eddie’s and giving a small wave, “H-Hey Eddie.” Eddie cocked a curious brow, smirking “What’s got you all red, Big Bill?” The taller boy placed his hand on his face to feel its warmth and gave an awkward chuckle, “N-n-...” He paused to re-compose himself, “Not much.” Eddie rolled his eyes, propping his elbow on his knee, and then his hand on his palm, “C’mon, Bill, you can tell me.” Bill let out a groan, visibly flustered, and now annoyed with Eddie’s persistence, but he gave no answer. “Did a girl ask you out? Did _you_ ask a girl out? Are you ditching us bachelors, Denborough?” This made Bill jump in the most amusing way, throwing his hands up and making him drop a small note that was folded against his thumb in the palm of his hand. Eddie shot up and bolted over, snatching up the note, reading the neat handwriting. 

****

****

_Bill, I think I’m in love with you. Is that weird? -S_

Then, in Bill’s messier handwriting, **I think I love you too.**

_Oh, good._

**  
__  
**

****

Eddie ogled at the letter and crossed his arms, pushing the note back against Bill’s chest. “So you didn’t ask her out after that!? Dude!” Bill turned a darker shade of red, unable to muster anything for a moment before, drawing in a breath, “S-shut uh-up, Ed. L-like y-.. You know a thing a-about romance.” 

And as if on cue, Richie burst through the doors right before Bill finished speaking, panting. He had been running and it was obvious, “What did I hear about romance? The **king** has arrived, boys.” Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes again, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Bill had some chick confess her love to him, _on Valentine’s Day_ , and he didn’t ask her out,” Richie looked at Bill’s clenched fist, the paper peaking between his fingers. A shit-eating grin curled over Richie’s face, “Oh, is that so, Billiam?” he asked in a new accent Eddie didn’t recognize. Bill simply nodded, cramming his fist into his pocket, still holding the note tight. Eddie waited patiently for the punchline to come, but when he looked back at Richie he simply shrugged and said, “Hey, if you’re the type to play hard to get, you do that, Big Bill.” Bill exhaled a sigh of relief, but Eddie continued to stare incredulously at Richie. If he had done something even remotely similar Richie would’ve grilled him for hours. What was wrong with him? 

Richie shoved between the two boys and past them, “Well! Let’s go, chaps! We ‘ave to get a move on! Th’ carnival is only open for a couple o’ more hours!” Eddie paced after him, pulling back on his backpack, “We’re going to the carnival? Won’t it be busy? And I didn’t bring any m-” “Say no more, Eds Spagheds, I’ve got your remedy!” Richie pulls out two 20 dollar bills and presents them to the two boys, “I am oh-fficially loaded, dudes.” “W-wow! H-how’d you get all that?” Bill asked, scrambling to catch up with them. “I house-sat for that crazy bitch next door,” Richie started, Eddie shot him a glare, as they were walking past some parents picking up younger students, “Watch it, Rich.” “What? Does that look like Maggie Tozier to you?” he said, openly pointing to a random woman who looked back at them. Eddie was about to burst with embarrassment. Richie looked around dramatically as if searching for someone, “And don’t worry, your mom isn’t here either, she’s probably busy sulking because I didn’t want to stay the night again.” Eddie shrieked, “That’s freakin’ disgusting! Shut up!” Bill laughs softly, finally relaxing. 

They soon arrived at the carnival, which had just reopened for the week in celebration of Valentine’s day, with new, overpriced admission. Filled to the brim with a bunch of hormonal teenagers swapping spit, Eddie wasn’t particularly thrilled. Last time he saw someone kiss with tongue he nearly vomited, and if he saw it again, or anything more grotesque, for that matter, he’d be blaming Richie, and likely give him a lecture later. Richie broke his train of thought by grabbing his wrist, and Bill’s, and dragging them through a bush, having already passed the admission booth. “Richie!” Eddie scolded, “Ow! Let go, you asshole!” “Shh!!!!” Bill gave a groan to both of them in response. “Just c’mon, trust me, it’ll be worth it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO grateful for all of this wonderful feedback on STYLM! If you're enjoying my writing, please feel free to check out my other on-going Reddie Fic, Another is Waiting, which is a post-chapter2 fic with tons of fun flashbacks. Eddie survives!


	5. Stuck in the Spider's Web (P.O.V. Mixed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning POV is Neibolt Eddie, when the scene shifts to the line, its Eddie.

“But what if he hates me?” the boy sulked, a few sticky drips of goo beginning to dry on his chin. The taller boy rolled his eyes in annoyance, “Can you please finish stitching back on my head before you start this…” Eddie worked the needle back into Stanley’s throat, sighing dramatically. “Fine, Stan, fine. So glad you care about my romantic plights,” “Oh it’s a plight alright, but not in the way you think.” Eddie’s brows furrowed thoughtfully and he tilted his head, “What d’ya mean, Stan?” Stanley grabbed his kippah as it fell out of his matted, curly hair, “He doesn’t love you, Eddie, and he never will. I’m sorry, but you’re not who he wants.” And suddenly, the small brunette went silent, stitching more vigorously than before in his silence. Stan rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, which was roughly pushed away with a snarl of annoyance. 

Goo began to bubble over his lower lip again. “Eddie, I’m trying to just be honest with you,” he lowered his voice, leaning against the peeling paint of the funhouse. Eddie tied off the thread and yanked roughly to break it, causing Stanley’s throat to jerk forward. “You don’t know him like I do” the brunette, finally, responded sternly. “You don’t know him at all!” Stan exclaimed, “Edward you’ve just made up an entire person in your head and put his face to it.” Eddie shot up to his feet, raising his voice to a shout as gray-ish tears began to slide down his cheeks. “THAT’S NOT TRUE, I KNOW HIM, I DO, STAN!” Stan glared at him, arms folded as he pushed himself onto his feet as well, “You d-” “And it’s fucking Eddie. Don’t call me Edward, asshole.” His voice lowered only slightly, still well above talking volume. The boy with a newly sore neck threw his hands up in defense quickly grabbing the moth-bitten and ragged sweater he had left on the ground. “Quiet, Eddie! You’re going to get someone’s attention--... You’re dripping really bad we’d be fucked,” he murmured, pulling on the turtle neck sweater and pulling at the collar to ensure his stitches were covered even when it slouched. Eddie sniffled as the goo began to drip out of his nose as well, he hated the sensation. He wiped at his nose with the edge of his cast and crossed his arms quietly. He _wished_ he could get someone’s attention, not even just Richie’s, he felt alone, entirely alone. 

“C’mon,” Stan muttered, grabbing Eddie’s wrist rather tightly, “Remember the plan?” “No shit I do, I just don’t like it, it’s--” “Shut up, Eddie, I don’t care what you think about it, I just wanted to know if you remember it.” Eddie grabbed his collar and wiped away his tears, snot, and drool as he was dragged from behind the funhouse towards the Ferris wheel. He didn’t get all of it, but as Eddie had found out, adults in Derry are not only ignorant, but indifferent, and no one would care as much as Stanley thought. They rounded a dumpster and stopped, Stanley stared at the line to the wheel, observing the boys running up from out of the bushes to join it. He kneeled down and started to brush through his hair. Eddie sat on the ground, back against the dumpster with a groan, “Why did I have to come this time?” “Because Richie was busy and I’m not stupid enough to do this shit alone,” Stan bit back coldly. “How sweet,” the brunette boy grumbled. “Stay, behave, and don’t be stupid,” the lanky boy said, smoothing over the sweater and fixing his disheveled clothes. Even Eddie had to admit he cleaned up to look like a near-perfect imitation of the other Stan. “Yeah, I get it, Stan.”

**[ IN THE FERRIS WHEEL LINE ]**

Richie elbowed Bill gently, “Isn’t that Stan?” he nodded towards the curly-headed boy cleaning off his hands at a sanitation station. Eddie followed his gaze and squirmed excitedly, “We should invite him over!” Eddie blurted. Bill stayed quiet, continuing to stare at the boy, “He said he had violin classes today.” “Well maybe that got canceled, Big Bill. Go see if he wants ta’ join us!” Richie exclaimed. Eddie nodded in agreement, wanting any excuse to chicken out on his plan for this afternoon. Bill fiddled with his rolled-up flannel anxiously before nodding and jogging down the small ramp. 

As Eddie watched him greet Stan he fiddled with the little bag in his pocket, tracing each guitar pick with his nail. Suddenly, Richie slapped his back in a rather hard pat, “What’s wrong, Spaghetti-head? You’ve been awfully quiet! Cat got your tongue?” The brunette nearly jumped out of his skin, making Richie recoil with an expression of guilt, “Sorry.” “It’s fine, I think I’m just alil’ overwhelmed with the crowd,” Eddie lied, glancing back around the festivities, the overpriced games, food, rides- the dumpster, with someone peeking around it. Wait- someone's behind the dumpster? Gross. He focused on the person with a scowl, hoping they felt his scorn. They were probably smoking, or making out with someone, or worse. As his eyes fixed onto the boy behind the dumpster he froze, his stomach twisting up in knots. It was him. Or at least it looked like him. The boy made eye contact with him and gave a wave, Eddie watched in abject horror as something dark and thick began to pour out of the boy's grin. His body was rigid with fear. "Eddie? We're up nex-" "I need to go to the bathroom, like right now." "Oh, uhm.. okay, grab Stan 'nd Bill on your way back?" "Yeah, okay." With that, Eddie took off trying to put as much distance from himself and that dumpster as possible. What the fuck is wrong with him? Why does he keep seeing things like this?

Eddie found himself wheezing from the mixture of a heavy on-coming panic attack and his asthma punishing him for the sprint his lungs were very unprepared for. He ducked behind the port-a-potties before gagging heavily enough he was scared he’d retch, so he stepped behind a game booth, hoping the acne-ridden, greasy-haired attendant wouldn’t pay him any mind as he curled up, knees to his chest in the grass. He wished he just had the guts to give Richie the little heart-shaped guitar picks in his pocket right after school, he might have, if it weren’t for Bill getting there first. The dark-haired boy was learning guitar, as of a couple of days ago, and has claimed it as his new passion. Eddie knew it was going to be a hyper fixation for perhaps two months and then he’d be bored of it, but he wanted to support the interest nonetheless. They were simple, a set of 4 in a little bag, themed after candy hearts with those cheesy phrases that only made Eddie smile when he thought about Richie. Any other time he saw anything that was particularly cheesy and romantically charged it annoyed him endlessly until he thought about the dork in glasses. Maybe Bill and Stan wouldn’t mind, didn’t Bill have a gay uncle? And who says Richie will even pick up on the connotations of the little heart-shaped picks? He reached into his pocket and froze. Fuck. They fell out when he was running, he must’ve moved them too far up in his pocket when fidgeting with them earlier. Eddie scrambled to his feet and began to retrace his steps.


	6. Twins, Am I Right? (P.O.V. Eddie K.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hit some writer's block, and had to move out of my dorm.
> 
> General TW for gross stuff involving Neibolt Eddie's lovely sludge and non-graphic bone breakage

Eddie’s chest heaved with exhaustion and rampant anxiety as he searched the ground, scrambling about with his head down. “Where is it? Where where where-” He ran into someone, letting out a quiet _ooouf_ as the little air he could retain was knocked out of him. “Sorry, I’m-- I’m so sorry I just lost a-” His sheepish smile quickly fell as he made eye contact with the freak from behind the dumpster. He could only stare wide-eyed and gaping as the mirror image of him grinned, black grime stains still visible on the corners of his teeth, pinched ever so teasingly in his grasp was the little bag of guitar picks. Eddie looked around, anxious and knowing well this couldn’t possibly be real. The hypochondriac slowly reached for the bag that was in what must be a hallucination’s grasp, but the other boy yanked it away swiftly. 

He felt an alarming swift smack to his back, a boy he didn't recognize laughed and mumbled to him, “Twins suck, right?”Eddie spun on his heels to stare at the teenager in disbelief, who was walking alongside his own twin. Others could see it. His heart began to pound rapidly. “Who are you?” He whispered hoarsely to the boy that looked just like him. The boy fixed his hair, which Eddie now noticed had been more unkempt than his own. “I’m you, Eddie,” it proclaimed loud and proud. “No - That’s not how it wor-” “I’m everything you’re scared of, and everything you hate about yourself.”The boy retorted before he could finish his statement. Eddie scowled, shooting the other an exasperatedly incredulous glare, “What the fuck does that mean?” The nasty mimic went quiet, eyes focused in on Eddie in a cold, terrifying silence before he could think of a proper response. Eddie waited impatiently as the other cleared its throat, “I, Eddie, am not a coward. I’m not a coward like you are.” Eddie snarled and crossed his arms firmly over his chest. 

“Neither am I! Stop playing whatever stupid fucking game this is I need to-” “Need to what? Avoid giving away these pretty little things?” The other waved the bag in front of his face, Eddie tried in vain to grab it, he was inhumanely fast. “No! I was going to-” “No you weren’t, just be honest with yourself.” “Will you stop fucking talking over me?!” And so the other fell silent, his smirk never fading. Eddie, fed up, tackled him to the ground, the other let out a groan, and then, something made a snapping noise. 

Eddie leaped up immediately in alarm, observing the dent in the boy's ribcage. “Fuck-- Wait I’m sorry please just give me the picks back I just-” The other began to cough, the black sludge beginning to pour from the corners of his mouth and down the side of his face onto the ground, quickly pooling around his head. Bubbling barely through the slime he manages, “You _monster_.” 

Eddie froze, staring in horror at the damage he had caused, “I said I was sorry do -- Do I need to call someone do I- do I, uhm-” the hypochondriac was beginning to hyperventilate. Suddenly the boy on the ground took an abnormally deep breath, followed by a clear, but hollow pop before he pushed himself back to his feet. His cheeks, jaw, and neck smeared and produced a light drip. “You’re even worse then her you know,” the beast growled, stumbling forward, his eyes now taking a form of dull, pure light. “I-- worse than who?” “You know who,” It snarled, Eddie could feel its searing breath wafting into his face, it smelled strongly of dirt and tar. He wrinkled his nose and looked away, “I don’t, I really don't know who you mean.” But he did, he knew, and that statement hurt more than he’d let anyone ever know. 

The terror leaned in, grabbing Eddie firmly by the jaw and yanking him to look directly into its glowing eyes. “You’re just like her, she’s gonna be proud.” “S-..stop,” Eddie hissed, trying to pull away but the grip only tightened. “Isn’t that what you want, Eddiebear? For her to be proud of you?” Eddie balled up his fist as it began to shove him back behind the game booth, unable to speak as he began to sob. “It’s okay, Eddie” the creature cooed in a warped, shaking tone, no longer resembling his own voice, “You’ll always be mommy’s perfect little boy, don’t you worry.” Big, hot streams of tears bubbled down from Eddie’s eyes, he closed them praying it would all end soon. He felt something tug firmly at his waist, specifically his fanny pack, and his eyes flew open again immediately, the creature was now rummaging through it, and snatched up a pill bottle. It moved its other hand to firmly grasp over Eddie’s already struggling throat. It held the pill bottle against its thigh and worked it open, digging its fingers in to fish out a dose. It repeated this thrice with all of his day-time medications. Each time tossing the pill bottle, no matter how full, to the ground by its sneakers. Eddie clawed at his arms, trembling. It held the dose under its chin, letting the disgusting tar drip down onto the pills. The beast's fingers seemed to elongate, now pressuring his jaw open, simultaneously with his day pill alarm sounding from his watch. “It’s time to take your pill, Eddie,” it whispered, sounding too much like himself and his mother at the same time. Eddie tried to get his jaw shut but froze as he heard the crushing of plastic and the burst of pills scattering on the asphalt. He jerked his eyes down to look at the monster stomping and grinding his meds into the old cracked lot. He looked back to the goo-soaked pills in horror. “NO!” he tried to scream, but all that came was a feeble whimper. The beastly-child quickly slapped its grime-soaked dose into his mouth before promptly slamming his mouth shut. It then took this hand to plug his nose, the hand securing his jaw now beginning to flick and pat and his Adam's apple. He closed his eyes, hot tears streaming down his face as he swallowed the sludge. “Good boy,” it hissed into his ear, before letting out a loud gasp. Eddie realized he hadn’t heard it breathe for some time. It released him and stumbled back onto the ground, huffing and coughing, its pupil’s back and wide. It dropped the pick bag on the ground and scrambled to its feet, darting away.


	7. Unclean (P.O.V. Neibolt Eddie)

Eddie’s chest heaved as he tore through the crowd back towards his hiding spot. _Get back there, Eddie._ The voice echoed, his chest burned as black, hot tears welled up in his eyes. He shook his head with vigor, his voice becoming hoarse as he continued to run, “No!” He didn’t want to hurt people, not like Mr. P wanted to. He wasn’t that type of person. _You aren’t even a person,_ the voice hissed, _you’re my creation, and mine to control. I am your god, your creator, Eddie. Stop fighting me._ His vision began to go black. 

The being cracked each knuckle on the tan bruised hand of the boy carefully, smoothing over his shirt. He cleared his throat. “Richie!” He practiced, trying to make his voice properly mimic the hypochondriac. Perfect. He looked back to where his cowardly assistant had left the boy, who was kneeling in the dirt, trying to recover what he could of his medication. At least the worthless brunette of his had given a suitable distraction. He marched up to Richie in line, carefully pushing through the gathering line behind them. “Chee! Sorry, I’m back I-” He paused, forming scrapes on his knees and elbows, “I-i fell !” Richie frowned and grabbed his arm gently, dusting off the dirt particles from his wrist. It restrained itself from a brief and booming fury of being grabbed and yanked about by a child. He was so close, and he could feel the fear building in the boy, making him more appetizing by the second. For once, It had no idea why. Richie kneeled to pour some of the water in a plastic bottle from his bag onto It’s knees, before freezing after soaking over one leg. He stood back up and glared daggers at him. “Why won’t you leave us alone?” he said, his voice shaken, quiet. This startled It enough to lose grip on the form, the deadlights fading back to the den beneath Neibolt.

Eddie gapped, realizing how close he was to Richie. He didn’t remember running in this direction. So close he could smell him. A goofy grin spread over the boy’s features, dumbfounded and flustered. Richie’s brows furrowed and he cleared his throat. The brunette now noticed he was upset and froze, “I- uhm- uhm… W-what?” “I _said_ Why won’t you leave us alone? I know you’re not Eddie.” Eddie went stiff with shock “You… You know? How?” “Your cuts are all dirty and puffy. Eddie would have scrubbed them clean of blood and dirt.” “Cuts?” Richie groaned angrily, grabbing the boy firmly by the wrist that made his non-existent heart pound (not in a necessarily bad way). He pointed to the scraped up elbow and Eddie stared at it. “I don’t--” “Who. Are. You.” Eddie laughed nervously, “Rich I just wanted to get back to you don’t-- Don’t overreact.” “You aren’t Eddie, who are you?” Richie repeated sternly. Eddie looked both ways and sighed quietly, tugging his arm gently from Richie’s grasp. “I’m not Eddie, you’re right.” He could feel the hole in his chest hiss and burn, he fought it, “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re still not answering my fucking question- And what did you do with Eddie?” “Eddie’s okay… Just- freaked out.” “Where is he?” “Uhm-” Eddie spun around to face the mass of people, barely able to spot the boy he was based on. He pointed at him, “There, he’s over there.” Richie shoved past him before turning to him. “My house, tonight, be there. I need answers.” Eddie's throat went tight with anxious feelings and dread, “okay,” he muttered.

And so, he watched the lanky boy he so desperately wanted to even just touch run off towards the other boy. He bit his lip hard enough that blackened blood began to drip down his chin as he retreated from the ride’s ramp. Stanley quickly caught his eyes with a glare so hot and sharp that if it could have, it would’ve plunged through his heart like a blade. _Idiot,_ he could hear Stan say. _you had one job._ And, admittedly, he was right. He was so right. Eddie slunk back over to the dumpster, leaning his back against it and beginning to break down into sobs. Why did he feel like this for Richie? Why did this hurt so much? Richie would never care this much, and he knew it now. He was an unclean, dirty imposter.


End file.
